


Lacerated Moonlight

by illunaria



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illunaria/pseuds/illunaria
Summary: Once Clarissa had decided to leave the Agency, she thought she would leave everything and everyone behind.Only she's still haunted.





	Lacerated Moonlight

Clarissa had hesitated in turning her resignation letter over to the Agency. 

Yet after the funerals, after waking in a cold sweat every night for three weeks straight, she relented.

The Premier had carefully taken the papers from her, careful not to touch her scarred hands. 

She now understood the sorrow that swam in his eyes. 

It had bled into her own. 

*

The sun warmed her skin, and if it wasn’t for the lotion she’d lathered herself with, there was no doubt she’d be toasted to a scathing red. Instead, she stayed afloat in the middle of the pool with her feet submerged in the water, sporting the slightest of tans that would be gone in a week. The sea breeze wafted over her cheeks, and she smiled before rolling off the cookie-themed float and wading to the edge of the pool to her fruity drink. 

She took a sip and stared off at the ocean, just a boardwalk and beach away, where she had spent the majority of her week. Today as her parents, her four brothers, and her three sisters had gone to play in the sand and salt water or sunbathe on a beach towel, Clarissa had opted for the quiet of the resort pool. Still, the distant sounds of bubbly laughter and cresting waves brought a smile to her face.

She remembered Jasper describing the opalescent white beaches of the Maldives that he promised to bring her to one day. He would take her scuba diving alongside whale sharks, would have her swim with dolphins, would even try to convince her to try flyboarding. At the end of every day, they’d watch the sun dip beneath the crystalline waters.

That day never came.

Her smile dropped, and she finished her drink before hoisting herself out of the water and toweling off at the lounge chairs. Using the money she’d gotten from working at the Agency plus the extra they’d given her upon her leave, she’d decided to take a trip around the world. First stop was not the Maldives, but Hawaii. In two days time, she and her family would be getting on a plane for their three-month-long European vacation. The entirety of the summer would be devoted to this trip, and her parents had even managed to get the youngest kids out of school early. 

Movement caught her eye, and her gaze roamed upwards, looking up at the resort hotel that stretched on for six stories. On one of the open balconies, a lone glass of deep red wine sat alone on an otherwise empty table. White drapes rustled and swayed in the breeze, and a tremor ran down her spine when she caught a glimpse of a razor-sharp smile. 

Clarissa rubbed her eyes and looked again. 

No one was there. 

*

She felt someone’s eyes on her at dinner. 

It wasn’t any of her family members, who sat around the long table talking, her brothers taking jabs at each other, her two older sisters pointing out the cutest guys even though they were both already engaged. Her youngest sister Lydia poked at the broccoli on her plate and glared ahead at Edmond, looking like she was ready to chuck it in his direction.

Clarissa turned her head slightly to glance over her shoulder, looking to catch anyone’s eye. 

When the waiter came by to silently offer her a dessert menu, she took the opportunity to glance over it and ordered a slice of the dark chocolate cake. Still distracted as she handed it back to him, she looked the other way, and then sank into her chair with a sigh.

“Wasn’t that waiter cute?” her older sister Rika leaned over and whispered, her eyes on his retreating back.

In response, she shrugged, noncommittal. 

There was no reason to be paranoid. 

When he never came back with that slice of cake, and when she remembered that their table had been assigned a waitress, and when she tried and failed to conjure an image of the waiter in her mind, Clarissa tried to think nothing of it. 

*

An abundance of frothy foam sat on the lip of her beer stein, her finger trailing across the chilled surface of the elaborate details displaying a woodland scene. The setting around her was boisterous, filled with people, music, and dancing. It was cramped on the long bench, but with all the cheer in the air, Clarissa surprisingly found herself not bothered by it. 

Her siblings whooped as their parents got up to join in on the chicken dance. 

Using her hand as a cradle for her cheek, she let her eyes flutter shut, the oom-pah music fading as she felt the ache in her muscles from the earlier mountain-climbing.

The alps were even more wonderful than she had imagined, and she and her sisters had foolishly enjoyed reenacting the scene from _The Sound of Music_ where Maria spun in circles on emerald green hills. The wind had raked through her pale tresses, the fresh air had cleared her sinuses, the sights had left her elated.

Her phone was buzzing in the pocket of her cardigan. Fishing it out, she glanced at the caller ID and let loose a huff. She swung her legs over the bench and stood, moving away from the crowd in the town square as she answered the phone.

“Hello?”

She could barely make out the sniffling on the other side. Sweeping her eyes across the cute German storefronts that seemed designed to attract tourists, encouraging people to come inside by being open as the sun began its slow descent. She darted into a shop that sold a variety of cuckoo clocks. 

_ “H-Hey, Clarissa… Can you do international calls?” _

“Yeah, I can. Where are you right now, Marley?” she asked, smiling at the shopkeeper before ducking into a quiet corner. At the answering sound of a choked sob, she winced.

_ “So-Some shady bar just, uh, a few blocks away from the aquarium that… Jasper and… I brought ya to last year. But I tell ya, the barkeep is, like, probably the nicest person I know. I begged her for another one, but she’s lookin’ out for me, ya know? Stopped ha-handing them out after my… my fifth?” _

Clarissa examined the details of one of the clocks in front of her and sighed, “And you’re by yourself?” She could just imagine her friend having drink after drink with no end it sight. Her eyes stung, so she turned her attention over to a strange monochrome-colored clock.

_ “When am I not lately? Ha… That’s not funny. It’s not. I miss him, Rissa. I’d give anything to have him back.” _

“Don’t say that,” she said in a hush. “Don’t. Don’t tempt fate like that. I don’t think he’d like it.”

As expected, and so like Marley, she got on the defensive. _ “You don’t know what he’d like. Jasper wanted to live a long life. He wanted to be fuckin’ happy. To grow old and have a billion great-grandkids. He wanted that with _ you _ . And look where that got him. Fuckin’ six feet under-” _Another strangled sob. 

Tears blurred Clarissa’s vision, her blood pounded loudly in her ears. She’d sunk down to the floor, knees to her chest as she held the phone inches away, tightly in her hand. 

_ “God, I… I’m sorry,” _ Marley said after a tense moment of silence where Clarissa hadn’t responded. _ “I’m drunk and saying stupid shit. It’s not your fault, Clarissa. It’s not. Ya know that, right? Um, okay, so let me tell you… um, let me tell you about the others. They’ve handled this a hell of a lot better than me, of course. Even Kane-” _

She had her fists pressed against her eyes that were scrunched shut, smearing what little makeup she’d put on for the night. Her phone rested on her lap, so when Marley went quiet, she barely noticed. What she did notice was just how abruptly the quiet came. The music outside had come to a stop, and when Clarissa looked up and gazed at all the clocks frozen in mid-swing, in time, her mouth went dry. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder, and the sight of the shopkeeper completely suspended in time confirmed her suspicions. 

Scream and bile bubbled in her throat. 

She felt the ghost of shackles around her wrists, the silk of a blindfold around her eyes, the cut of a knife against her skin.

The scent of expensive wine in the air. 

The scent of blood.

On instinct, her hand went to her thigh for her concealed carry, but of course she didn’t have it. She’d resigned from the Agency. She had wanted to leave those painfully few wonderful and terrible years behind her. Yet that didn’t mean she didn’t have a weapon. She slammed her palm against the floor and jolted up, rushing for the window, just for a glimpse of the night sky. 

Then came the ticking of the clocks. 

Marley’s voice on the phone.

Jovial music from outside.

The shopkeeper sneezed. 

That didn’t stop Clarissa from rushing outside in a frenzied hurry to find her family. She didn’t spare the rest of the shop a glance, refused to check the shadows for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

Maybe that made her a coward. 

She raised one hand up to the sky as she ran back to the bench everyone was seated at, feeling the rush of stars trickle over her fingers to form claws of shimmering light. 

With her being one of very few Wielders in the world, of course people would point and stare. She wasn’t surprised when most shrunk away in fear. If only they knew of the evil that lurked nearby.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” her mother asked, coming up to her side with wide eyes full of concern. Her family had busied themselves by gathering their coats and purses, looking at Clarissa’s claws. She drew them back in, making them seep up and underneath her sleeves, keeping them close in case she needed to momentarily blind someone. 

Somehow she knew he was too clever to attack her under direct moonlight. 

He was playing with her. 

Or perhaps she was only being paranoid.

Doubt began to creep into her thoughts.

It was entirely possible her mind would play an awful trick on her. All it needed was something to trigger her memories—memories she’d rather keep locked away. Memories of the months that left her scarred. Months that didn’t exist. 

Swallowing, Clarissa dropped her hands and looked back at the clockwork shop, at its whimsy front and window displays. Nothing seemed amiss. 

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, and she looked back to her mother who was watching her, waiting for a response with bated breath. Technically, Clarissa hadn’t been allowed to tell anyone outside the Agency exactly what had happened on that mission. On any mission. It was all considered classified information, but to keep such a secret had proved impossible, like trying to block an entire ocean with a single dam. 

Her words came out in a rush. “I think we should leave tonight. Head back home. Immediately.” 

Her mother’s brows drew together in confusion before panic began to cloud her blue eyes. She knew what that meant, that they were in danger, and that they were most certainly not heading back home anytime soon. Because if they had found her and her family here, then they most likely knew exactly where they lived, and home would be the place they would be the least safe.

And it was better to be safe than sorry.

*

They traveled to Paris the following day. Clarissa busied herself by taking in the sights, the food, the art. Her mother, continuing in her odd tradition for every visit to France, had almost gotten herself kicked out of the Louvre by ignoring the no flash photography sign and promptly adding to the synthetic lightshow around the Mona Lisa. 

Her brothers were no better, the twins earning nasty glares by doing atrocious French accents, while Edmond joined in. Her eldest brother, Erik, had taken the twins by the ears and reprimanded them in fierce hisses.

And surprisingly, such shenanigans eased her mind. 

They were safe.

Her sisters insisted on bringing her shopping, and she knew she’d need to get another suitcase for all the new clothes she’d been pressured into buying—from a comfy striped turtleneck to a shimmering gold dress that flowed down to her feet that she figured she would never actually wear in her life.

But even trying on overpriced clothes eased her mind. 

By the time they traveled onto Italy, she’d nearly forgotten about the strange occurrence in Germany. She’d spoken to Marley since then via text, and all seemed to be going better on her end.

_ I solemnly swear not to get drunk at random bars ever again _, she had promised.

Clarissa’s response was dry, to the point. _ And your regular bars? _

_ Don’t push your luck. _

She figured Marley wouldn’t be moving on anytime soon. Clarissa herself was one of eight siblings, and if she’d lost one of them, especially if she’d had a twin to lose, she’d be heartbroken for years.

She was surprised that Marley had somewhat forgiven her. 

If she hadn’t been foolish enough to get herself kidnapped…

Shaking her head free of the thought, she ran one hand along a wall deep within the Via Appia Antica catacombs.

Rome was everything she ever dreamed it would be. With its various art museums, imposing architecture, lovely language, and rich culture, she found herself getting lost in an isolated world far from the worries she’d suffered from. Today was overcast, cool, a nice change from the beaches they’d lounged on a few weeks ago. They’d already visited the Colosseum, tossed coins into the Trevi Fountain, browsed the Pantheon, and explored Vatican City. She’d been blown away by the sheer size of the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter’s Basilica was just as breathtaking. 

Now outside the city, and underground, she found herself getting a bit anxious and claustrophobic. The moon wasn’t out, so she wouldn’t be able to use her ability even if she aboveground, but the sunlight did calm her nerves. 

She’d tried only once to harness the power of the sun, and that had resulted in a detrimental crater in the middle of the desert. She was lucky to have been alone then, with only plantlife and reptiles as casualties. 

The tour guide was busy rattling off a list of names, details of the death surrounding them. Her family easily made up half of the group, leaving enough space for a couple, a family of five, and three lone tourists. Clarissa rubbed the back of neck, yet another chill running down her spine. She figured it wasn’t all that strange, considering the death surrounding them.

They headed further down the stone corridor, and she glanced back, wishing they could turn around and head back up. 

But she didn’t want to trouble anyone again.

She ran into her brother Levi’s broad back with a grunt and knocked on his shoulder. “Move, you big lud.” When he didn’t react, not even to look over his shoulder and send her one of his mischievous smirks, she looked to his twin. “Liam…” But he wasn’t moving, no one was moving. She peered over their shoulders, at every still face. The guide’s mouth was open, hand unmoving in the air, mid-gesturing to one of the grave niches.

They were frozen in time.

Footsteps sounded behind her.

She had no access to her ability. 

Her hair was being swept to the side.

She had no way to defend herself.

A nail ran from the nape of her neck to the small of her back.

“Hello, Clarissa,” Valentine purred. 

She clapped her hands over her ears and screamed. 

*

She was first scouted after accidentally ripping a hole through an open air zero gravity ride at the local county fair. After she’d recovered from the shock of suddenly being able to grab moonlight and use it as a weapon, she found herself seated across the premier of the Agency, being scrutinized from head to toe. He was a tall man with salt and pepper hair, features that were still handsome, and gray eyes that were lined with age.

“What am I doing here?” she’d gasped. 

He had, in turn, smiled. “An amusement park, of all things. I was never too fond of them.”

Then he had proceeded to explain to her how the adrenaline had affected her, urging her to call upon her ability for the first time in her life. That she was a Wielder. From a young age, she’d heard a call from the stars, beckoning her to reach out and touch them. It had been dwelling inside her from the moment she’d been conceived. A spark. A star. 

And since those with supernatural abilities were so rare, she’d been asked to join the Agency. Only after being put through a series of exams dealing with physical strength and morality, of course. Yes, the physical part had done a number on her at first, but eventually, after months of hard work, she was put on a mission. Throughout her childhood and teenage years, she’d watched the actions of the Agency like a hawk, though news was difficult to come by considering how secretive they could be. Now she was given the chance to be one of them.

Over time, she gained a number of friends. Marley, Jasper, Kane, Giselle, and Ian being only a handful, but definitely the closest. They had been the team she’d gone with for her first mission, and it was panic-inducing to say the least. Yet they’d still managed to pull through at the very last minute. Especially considering the time bomb they had to disable. 

She met Valentine only two months later.

The Agency had been given a lead on the group of Wielders that used their powers to terrorize and gain power. The organization had only recently surfaced and conducted their illicit affairs under the name of the Eye.

Her first encounter with them had left hairline cracks in the hope she had for Wielders to change the world for the better. To use their powers for good. When they’d been given a lead on one unregistered Wielder using her ability to bring down the power of an entire city, the Agency chose to send Clarissa’s team. Kane was team leader, but with the incident happening at night, she found herself being relied on. She took the light from the stars, watching them go leave the sky one by one until they’d managed to illuminate their surroundings. 

“She’s up ahead,” Kane had said in his usual grave voice. He had the ability to track anyone down by feeling for certain aura and the traces of it people left behind. Jasper was close behind him, giving Clarissa a thumbs up as they traversed further into the quiet park.

When they came upon the playground, her shoulders had slumped sadly. The six of them could hear the sobbing coming within the top of the playhouse attached to the swingset.

She watched Marley shift from foot to foot uneasily before nodding to Jasper. “Together?” 

He had nodded back, his red hair rustling against the wind, glowing in the moonlight. Together the twins stepped forward, leaving the rest of the team to keep watch. Ian looked anxious, and Giselle rubbed Kane’s hand in comfort. Auras almost always seeped into his. 

One moment, everything was quiet. 

The next, she remembered Jasper shouting for help. 

They were surrounded.

There was the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head. 

“So we have a nullifier here, huh?” a smooth voice came from the top of the playhouse. Her gaze flitted up, fixing on the man silhouetted by the moon. He was pale, with sharp aristocratic features and dark hair mussed from the wind. She recalled how she was struck by just how classically handsome he was, but with the wicked smirk twisting his lips, he looked like the devil. In his arms was the girl they had been seeking out, who looked no older than twelve and had gone limp. The lamplights flickered on. 

Jasper looked like he’d been kicked down into the rubber ground from above. He clutched his arm and was staring up at the stranger with wide eyes. “He has a time ability!” he shouted to the rest. “He can freeze time!”

A beat of silence passed through the park, and then everyone acted. In an instant, Giselle had crumpled every gun aimed their way into useless scrap. Many of their opponents cursed, not having anything else but their fists to fight back, but some grinned. The ground ruptured beneath their feet. 

Before the earth caved, Clarissa focused her energy into forming a makeshift floor of dazzling light beneath them. And then she felt cold hands gliding down her arms to her hands, and shrieked when she saw the man who had been holding the girl now directly before her, caressing her skin.

"That's a lovely ability," he cooed.

She shrieked and whipped her hand out, forming an arching blade in the air that cut clean through his cheek. Blood speckled her uniform, and she stumbled back, watching him slowly raise one hand to his bleeding face. His eyes, so desolate, such a gleaming dark, trained on hers.

When he smiled, she turned, sliding across the makeshift floor and into the fray of the fight.

Kane had already put several members of the Eye into a subdued slumber. He had to get close enough to touch them, to manipulate their aura into a deep sleep.

Giselle had used her ability to create handcuffs out of the metal of the guns she had destroyed, so as Kane put them to sleep and as Jasper nullified Wielders, she clasped them on their wrists. Meanwhile, Marley was busy sending the few that were too quick to get a hold on flying, using her method of taunting them into an attack before landing a brutal punch.

She then saw a rustling in the wooded area beyond, and was relieved to see Ian burst free of the thicket. Though that relief quickly waned when he came up to her with a pained look. "I can't find the girl. He must've taken her," he said, nodding to the Wielder with the ability to freeze time.

The man overlooked the scene with an expression of boredom. "All right, that's enough," he sighed. Jasper looked up in alarm, and in the next moment, all Eye agents had disappeared except for him.

This time, however, Jasper had managed to cross the playground and to get one hand on his throat. Clarissa assumed that the time ability had no effect on him, and so, he had been able to walk just as freely as the man with the ability.

"Where is she?" Jasper growled.

What he hadn't anticipated was the Wielder's raw strength. He was slender, but underneath the impeccable suit he wore, he had muscle. Jasper was pinned to the ground with a switchblade to his neck in a moment's time.

While Marley stood frozen in shock at her side, Clarissa screamed. "Don't hurt him!"

His eyes flitted up, and he gave her the same eerie smile he cast her before, and then he pressed the knife down. She watched as a bead of blood appeared beneath the blade, and Giselle grit her teeth in frustration, glaring at the weapon. But with that distraction, Clarissa slipped a sliver of moonlight beneath Jasper's coat and then drew it up.

The switchblade went flying as the dark-haired man flung himself backwards, clutching his wounded hand to his chest. She met his scathing glare, like gazing into a yawning chasm, before he vanished before their eyes.

Jasper pointed one shaking finger southeast. "He went that way," he breathed. But they knew better than to go after him.

Later they'd identified the man as Valentine, one of the head members of the Eye. His true identity was unknown, no records of him able to be found. He’d seemingly erased himself from the world only to emerge as one of its most dangerous criminals. 

And that was only the first of many encounters.

Afterwards, it became clear that Valentine had developed an obsession for Clarissa. Though there were several known healers in the Eye, he chose to keep the scars that marred his cheek and hand. When they encountered him a second time, he was fixated on her immediately. He chose to keep a close proximity with her, to toy with her using his ability. 

Soon he allowed her to walk as he did during his ability.

To taunt her.

But Jasper was always there at her side.

Jasper was an ideal target for the Eye. One to kill, not to recruit. He was a liability to them, but Clarissa always thought it odd that they gave up on that powerful of a Wielder so easily.

And that became clear when Ian betrayed them.

She'd been in the Agency for two years when it happened.

Ian had come up to her while she'd been out shopping one day and convinced her that Jasper and Marley had been put in danger. He'd led out of the mall and into the busy street to a nondescript car. As soon as she opened the door to slide in, and her eyes met Valentine's, Ian grabbed the back of her neck and pulled the air away from her, letting her choke into submission.

She collapsed into Valentine's lap and blacked out.

When she came to, Jasper and Giselle were dead.

And she was trapped in time with Valentine.

*

"Why do you keep running from me, love?" Valentine breathed against her neck, arms winding tightly around her frame from behind. Her throat was sore from screaming. "Is it because you know I like the chase? You do know me better than anyone else."

A pained sound came from the back of her throat. She looked at the stiff bodies of her family in front of her, unable to help themselves, in the most danger now than they had ever been in their lives. 

"You're wondering how I found you. How I disguised myself. It's much simpler than you think, actually. All I had to do was wear the face of a dead man."

He flung something to the ground in front of her, and she had to bite back a scream. It was a slab of flesh, a face that had been carved from someone's head.

"Nehemia’s ability is quite useful, much like yours. But I do wish I had your Jasper's face," he chuckled against her skin. "Your reaction would be divine."

She nearly vomited then and there, but she was finding it difficult to breath, the scent of his cologne encompassing her into a daze.

"Say something," Valentine said, though there was no impatience in his voice. There was never anything so human there. Just calm, quiet danger. "I want to hear you address me once again. Go on. Don't be afraid. Call me Master."

Her body doubled over, and he let her fall to the ground, let her dash between her brothers' timebound bodies. Now a short distance from him, she stopped and whipped her head around, watching him.

She felt her heart lunge at the sight. It had only been a few months since Ian's betrayal, since her kidnapping and the deaths of two of her closest friends. She hadn’t been prepared to see him so soon. Still he looked like a fallen angel, still he had this chaotic calm in his black eyes, still he smiled every time he saw her, upturned lips tugging at the scar on his cheek.

He'd withdrawn a familiar switchblade and was holding it to Liam's neck.

"Say something," he hissed.

Clarissa took in a shaky breath. It hurt to breathe. She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes before rolling down her cheeks. The only comfort that kept her on her feet was knowing that even though he could injure people within his ability all he wanted, the moment he chose to let go and reset time, everything would be back to normal. And then he would be outnumbered. 

His eyes gleamed under the artificial lighting, and as if reading her thoughts, he spoke, “Then you can get to watch him experience death over and over again. In fact, I might just chop each and every single one of your brothers into little pieces. I’ll strip your sisters of their clothes before skinning them alive. I’ll jab this little knife into your parents’ eyes and force them down each other’s throats. Maybe I’ll unfreeze them each at a time so they struggle. So they’ll remember all this forgotten time. Do you remember ours?”

Her fingers had curled into fists, digging bloody crescents into her palms. 

His soulless eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and then he slit Liam’s throat, the blood there still before pouring out in a wave of red. A pained whine escaped Clarissa’s throat as she stumbled into her father’s back and buried her face in his shirt. 

“Oh, dear,” Valentine said as Liam managed to sputter a few garbled words of confusion before slumping into death. “If only it was permanent.”

Next she heard him unfreeze Levi just before jabbing the blade into his flesh over and over and over and over again. “Look at that, your face twisted in pain, knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it,” he sighed in euphoric bliss. Levi grunted, and she listened as he fell to his knees, howling in pain before being cut off by one clean cut. “Watch, Clarissa, watch me. Look at me. Watch as I slice open their flesh, as I butcher your precious family one by one. And I’ll do it again. I’ll do it as many times as I want to. Oh, you were all so fun to watch. Having the time of your lives on this wonderful, dream-like family vacation. You had me worried at first. As soon I heard you had left the Agency, I was devastated.”

She trembled, blood seeping into the soles of her shoes.

“How about this one? What’s your name, little girl? Lydia?”

A whimper sounded, and Clarissa whipped around, her eyes ablaze with sudden fury. He had one gloved hand fisted in her sister’s chestnut brown hair, the other arm tightly around her torso. The harrowing terror on her heart-shaped face only worsened as she looked at the bodies of her twin brothers bleeding out onto the dirt. She sobbed once, then broke into an ear-splitting wail. 

“Don’t! She’s only eight!” Clarissa shouted. She kept her attention off of the twins, knowing that the sight itself could break her. Blood pounded in her ears, curdled fear shot through her veins. She was dizzy with turmoil. “What do you want, Valentine?”

He had the audacity to look confused. His lips moved, but she couldn’t make out what he said over her sister’s screams. Then his lips curled, and he jammed his hand over Lydia’s mouth, not flinching when she dug her teeth into the leather fabric of his black glove. “You.”

Her hands began to shake violently. “You’ve had me,” she said, wear and tear breaking through the strength she’d managed to muster up in her voice. “You’ve broken me. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Again, that deranged gleam. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t broken you.” He forced Lydia forward, stepping behind her until they were only inches apart and he was looking down at her as he began to speak, “I can still see it in your eyes. That spark. That will to keep going. I bet if I left you here right now, you’d run back to the Agency, vowing vengeance on the Eye, especially on me.” 

“You raped me. You _ murdered _my friends. If- If I’d wanted to keep going, to get revenge, I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have left,” she cried, pressing against her father’s back. It was stiff, but still bursting warmth from life. “I wouldn’t be cowering, I would be fighting. I would… I would…” She sank to her knees and clung to her baby sister’s skirt, looking up at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I’m not the superhero you thought I was. I’m not strong. I’m not brave. I’m nothing but a stupid coward who got in over her head.”

With anguish, she watched as her sister’s face turned down in sadness and defeat. Clarissa looked past that, her eyes searching Valentine’s blank face. That was enough. It had to have been enough to convince him to let Lydia go. That was enough heartbreak, wasn’t it? Make her, who Lydia had always looked up to, into something pathetic. 

But something in those eyes darkened further, and before she had a chance to move, he’d plunged the switchblade into Lydia’s eye. 

This time Clarissa vomited. 

Tremors wracked her body, left her winded and heaving for air. She was vaguely aware of his rich laughter, of his hand fisting through her hair and pulling her up, of how he had removed the gloves just to rake his nails against her scalp. He leered down at her and asked sweetly, “Who would you like me to slit open next?”

“No one,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “You have me. Just stop this. Take me and set this right.”

“What a good girl,” he purred. He drew her in closer, one hand gripping her jaw, lips barely brushing against hers. “But know that I plan to kill them all someday. Everyone you love. Until all you have no one to cling to but me.”

In that moment, there was no one but him. He was her world again, her cage, her lifeline, her everything. 

He would take her back to that dark room, would lock her in chains and carve his name into her skin until there was no room left on her pallid skin, just so he’d start on a clean slate by resuming time for only a second. Would rip away at her until she would be begging for him to stop. To keep going. To love her. To worship her. To kill her. 

He would. 

Only to start over.

Valentine smiled sharply and took hold of her hand, tugging her over the lifeless bodies of her brothers and sister. On the way, he tapped the shoulders of two others, releasing the strangers of his ability. They looked at him, looked at her, then peeled the skin from the faces and tossed them down. 

She recognized Nehemiah, her eyes the color of honey, her hair a mass of black silk, her unblemished skin a russet, reddish-brown. She was the epitome of beauty, and she wore it well with an air of vicious confidence. 

And she recognized the electricity Wielder her team had failed to save. She looked wild, cold, hardened by the Eye. Regret dug deep into Clarissa’s heart.

“Good job, Val,” Nehemiah congratulated in a sarcastic tone, sneering. “You have your pet back. Though I would have rather spent my time in Rome doing something other than exploring crypts and kidnapping useless things.” 

“Please, you haven’t spent any time at all,” he said, voice as pleasant as ever. They continued walking back toward the entrance, steps echoing eerily in silence, his thumb sliding across Clarissa’s palm as they came to the flight of stairs. He slid his attention elsewhere. “Now, Zoe, could you be a dear and perform your magic as soon as I let go?” 

Zoe turned, her hair a ghostly white against her tanned skin. Dark bags hung underneath dull eyes, and Clarissa looked down, the guilt burrowing farther. She sank into Valentine’s side, wondering what he meant. But when she heard the voices of her family, of Liam and Levi—and Lydia’s screaming, she smiled. 

Even as Zoe electrocuted her into a deep darkness.


End file.
